Beauty Is A Perilous Gift.

Life Goes Not In A Straight Line, Lad, But In A Circle. The First Half We Spend Venturing As Far As The World's End From Home And Kin And Stillness, And The Latter Half Brings Us Back, By Roundabout Ways But Surely, To That State From Which We Set Out.

The Voices Of Cold Reason Were Talking, As Usual, To Deaf Ears.

You Cannot Demand Truth, And Then Select Half And Throw The Inconvenient Remainder Away.

Of All The Reports That Fly About The World, Ill News Is The Surest Of All To Arrive!

Beauty Is A Perilous Gift.